The Worst Boyfriend I Ever Had
Armed with a moderate amount of sadistic glee, I approached a cross section of NYC-based gay guys and asked them to reveal the worst boyfriend they ever had. They’re still answering! I’d figured this little game could be cathartic, educational, and more than a little fun. But I had no idea it would tap into that deep a nerve. Well, the stories came back fast and furious, no one having to ponder too hard to dredge back the old tales of hurt—and they almost all had to do with cheating! Damn those men! Here’s what the bitter batch of responders said.
MUSIC BIZ PERSON: “So my ex kept telling me he felt like he had a burning sensation. Maybe he had an STD? I kept asking how that would happen. Then, that night, on the eve of my birthday, he tells me he cheated on me. Come to find out, I had an STD from him, too!” Happy birthday, hon.
CUSTOMER SERVICE REP: “I was in a triad relationship, and one of the boys thought it was OK to go outside the relationship with five of his friends with benefits without discussing it with the other two first.” [Yes, the guy cheated with five people. A cheat orgy!] “He then freaked out, accusing the two of us of cheating because one of his fuck buddies had come over to cut our hair.” Talk about projecting.
FINANCE WORKER: “We were open, but two rules: No sleeping with each other’s friends, and always be safe. He broke both at the same time. It turned out he’d hooked up with more than a dozen guys (that I know of) in the few months we were open, and at least 90% of them were friends.” With friends like that, who needs enemas?
PARTY BOY: “In the first months, I felt like we would last forever. I decided to pursue it, so I picked up my life in NYC and moved it to upstate New York, five and a half hours away. He broke up with me a week after I moved.”
SALESMAN: “He was cheating on me with a stripper. My family and I were providing for him. When we broke up, he stole thousands of dollars in Prada and Ferragamo shoes and clothes from me. Then we realized (and he admitted) that he’d stolen my mother’s credit card when she was in chemotherapy and used the card to take other boys out on dates while we were still dating. He moved to NYC and started telling people made up stories about my family. We had bought a dog together (that I’m obsessed with) and had paid a fortune spoiling. He didn’t want the dog anymore, but he wanted to see the dog one more time. I said OK. He took the dog, gave it away, and changed his phone number, so I have no idea how to get my dog back. I later found out he had no real friends and a lot of his life was a lie and he seeks out people from good families and tries to cling onto them.” But otherwise, he’s perfectly delightful.
HAIRDRESSER: “My ex was living with me in New Jersey. Whenever I was home recovering from surgery from a car accident, he was fucking our friend in my bed. I tricked him into telling me by pretending I already knew. I kicked him out, which apparently destroyed him, and now he is in porn, lol.”
DRAG PERFORMER BRITTANY LYNN: “One of my gayest girlfriends introduced me to this twinkish, pocket gay. He was 19, I was in my twenties. I adored this little one. Lucky enough for him, on his 21st birthday I was enjoying a spike of popularity—some appearances on MTV's Real World and TRL, main hostess at Philly's Shampoo, and regular gigs at all the straight clubs in the tri-state area: Hunka Bunka, Silo, Deco, and Atlantic City's legendary Studio Six. I brought this JITBAG to Studio Six and was handed the keys to the kingdom—my favorite bartender kept the bottles and drinks flowing (gratis, of course) for my bastard and his friends, unlocked the pool table and jukebox so they could play for free for a few hours, and only let in the known regulars with the best party favors.
"Don't I see this prick getting phone numbers and working my friends for their party goods on credit, which I was supposed to pay later that night? I don't think so...Never cross a drag queen. At the end of the night, I had the bartender lock him in the bar with everyone who was owed money for ‘supplying the party’—and a bill for the drinks. I think I still have his wallet and car keys.”
JOURNALIST: “My old boyfriend repeatedly cheated on me. Once I caught him at 3 A.M. hunting for sex online (back in the AOL days). I called him up to confront him. He called me crazy, etc. and was trying to rush me off the phone. Then I heard his buzzer ring. It was his late night trick coming over to play, and he hung up on me! Rinse and repeat until I finally had enough and ended it.”
PHOTOGRAPHER: “We dated for eight months, then he boomeranged back and kept stringing me along for four years. He was a real party animal and a mess, and at 3 A.M., he’d blow up my phone and come over for hot sex. A sugar daddy ‘friend’ of his told me, ‘He’s not into you because you’re not rich or old enough.’ ”
WRITER/EDITOR: “A college boyfriend of mine, let’s call him Jake, invited me on a trip to New York to visit friends at Columbia University, where he’d gone the year before. We were staying at his friends’ place for the weekend. So we all went out to a gay college dance, and Jake disappeared. Hours later, someone informed me that Jake had run into some guy he used to know, and they had left the party to hook up and weren’t coming back. So, not only had I been abandoned, but I also had to go back that night to Jake’s friends’ dorm room and crash, alone, on their couch. It was, in retrospect, a useful introduction to NYC gay life.”
That’s it! I’m definitely staying single!
>>>READ ABOUT PATTI LUPONE's CABARET SHOW & MORE
A RM. WITH A VIEW
The unattached Mark MacKillop is the current boyfriend of many people’s dreams, with no complaints heard whatsoever. Mark is an actor/dancer/model who’s come up with a new book called Rm. XIV (i.e. Room 14), which selfie-ishly tracks his travails through hotel rooms across the world, where he sometimes writhes half-naked on the bed, among other esoteric pursuits. What people do for their art these days! Mark was on a West Side Story tour when he turned his iPhone camera on himself for these sultry images while no doubt humming “I Feel Pretty.”
Watch the YouTube clip below:
HIGH FLYING ADORED
Any room with two-time Tony winner Patti LuPone in it is one worth documenting. (But don’t! Not without permission!) Patti has long boasted an unbeatable belt and a steel will that has repeatedly translated into very hot theater. If Woody Allen had put her in Bullets over Broadway, I sincerely doubt it would be closing any time soon. Well, now, La LuPone has headed back to the NYC cabaret room 54 Below for her act “The Lady With a Torch,” mostly serving up classic wails of pain, regret, and loneliness with her usual flair. “Personally, I think ‘torch’ is short for ‘torture’,” quipped Patti at the top of the act last Wednesday, though watching her indulge in the genre was pure elation.
This is not an evening of career tidbits or cute anecdotes; it stays true to the theme. Using “By Myself” as a musical motif, she soared on “The Man I Love,” wowed on “Frankie and Johnny,” and engaged on the wittily kvetchy “Everything Happens To Me.” Throughout, Patti was relaxed and agile, introducing one song with, “This is from the Great Depression—mine” and later deadpanning about the evening’s mood: “It gets sadder.” (And more diverse, too. “C’est Magnifique” was light as a breeze.) By the way, did our star do a tribute to the original “Ladies Who Lunch” singer? Oh, yes. Before launching into “Make It Another Old-Fashioned, Please,” Patti noted, “This song is dedicated to Elaine.” No one had to ask, “Elaine who?”
Zak Resnick (left), Gabrielle Ruiz, & Derrick Baskin | Photoby Jenny Anderson
The New York stages are still carrying a torch for jukebox musicals, but the latest one—Piece of My Heart: The Bert Berns Story—tries to accomplish way more than your average such thing. This one wants to make a case for the work of a pop songwriter who admittedly wasn’t even famous when he was famous. It aims to stud his story with his songs, while sometimes using the numbers as plot points too. It parallels Berns’ life with that of his daughter, who’s trying to understand dad while taking baby steps both in and out of his shadow. And it attempts to make the wrenching song of the title—a wail of pain when sung by Janis Joplin—into a happy love ballad.
But while Act One is dull and has serious problems, the second half features the better songs (Berns also wrote “Twist and Shout,” “Tell Him,” and “Hang On Sloopy”) and more involving dramaturgy and staging. I left intrigued by Berns’ achievements, but I’m glad I’m not one of his collaborators; they don’t even merit a mention. Like my ex-boyfriend!